


There's a small boy

by jsslasher102



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, M/M, Multi, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-08-08 03:33:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16421603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsslasher102/pseuds/jsslasher102
Summary: There's a child. A small boy the age of seven. He lost his innocence and his mother. It's been a year and it gets no easier. The beatings are worse and bruises litter his arms. Hours of cleaning and errands left him tired. Starved and neglected.There's a child. A small the age of seven. He looks towards his drunk father. The beatings were worse when he was drunk. You would think this child is well cared for with nice new clothes. He is bleeding, each kick and punch only adding to the pain. Not yet crying but prepared to reach the point.





	1. Age 7

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on Ao3, I hope you like it and please comment. Also yes I changed James' parent's names because I couldn't see Euphemia and Fleamont doing this. There will be some other changed names throughout the story.

**There's a child. A small boy the age of seven. His eyes are red rimmed and there's a bruise on his cheek.**  
**There's a child. A small boy the age of seven. What happened to him? He looks scared. He turns fast at the sound of footsteps. Whose footsteps? There's a drunken voice, the footsteps are getting louder and tears are beginning to form.**  
James Potter was a kid like anybody else. He had a pet dog, Mattie and loving parents, Elizabeth and Henry. His sixth birthday brought on horrors like no others.  
When you were turning six you may remember your cake and that present you were hoping for. All James can remember is tears, blood and hospital rooms.  
He awoke to be treated like the king he was, presents piled high on the kitchen table. He was pestering his mom to pick up his cake. She had a friend from the local bakery make a large one with multiple layers.  
"Okay, I'll get the cake," Elizabeth told her small son, laughing. She picked up her keys and left the house saying "Love you, bye," to Henry and James.  
James waited with his laughing father. He felt Henry's hand run through his hair and a kiss press to his small head. "I love you Jamie," he said picking up the child to rest on his hip. An hour past and the phone began to ring.  
"Yes, w-what," James watched as his father started to shake. He rested a tiny hand in his father's and felt his father squeeze hard to enough to hurt. Every time James would pull at his hand his father would squeeze tighter.  
"Okay," Henry said with the same shakiness as slammed the phone down.  
"Dad," James whimpered out, tears in his large hazel eyes. Henry turned and struck him across the face. After a kick to the knees, James crumbled to the ground. Henry gave him one last disappointed look before forcefully picking him up and setting him in his booster seat in the car and beginning to speed off the property.  
James was crying the backseat from all the pain his father had just caused him. His father had a desperate look in his eyes as he sped towards the hospital.  
"Shut up," he shouted into the backseat, reducing James to nothing more than strangled whimpers. The rest went by as a blur, they were escorted to the hospital room. There were tears shed, love you's and goodbyes were said.  
"Bye mom," James said as his father carried him out, unable to walk from the beating. He felt a hidden smack against his head as his dad exited the hospital. How do you say goodbye to a mother, a wife and friend? Never to have a family dinner or a date night ever again. They couldn't save her even with the magic they had so heavily relied on.  
**There's a child. A small boy the age of seven. He lost his innocence and his mother. It's been a year and it gets no easier. The beatings are worse and bruises litter his arms. Hours of cleaning and errands left him tired. Starved and neglected.**  
**There's a child. A small boy the age of seven. He looks towards his drunk father. The beatings were worse when he was drunk. You would think this child is well cared for with nice new clothes. He is bleeding, each kick and punch only adding to the pain. Not yet crying but prepared to reach the point.**


	2. Author's Note

This story will be up Saturday the twelfth along with another story called 100 Polaroids.  
100 Polaroids: People say a picture tells a thousand words- can they tell more?  
There's two other stories going up in the next week or two called 42 fiascos and a series called a Stumble Through Time.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been gone for a while and the new planned date that I am going to stick to is January 4th, so they might all be there on that date or a few posted everyday.


End file.
